stood some distance off, leaning on his two-handed sword, a silent
spectator of the meeting.

"The free life of the forest is no more for me, Gottlieb. My duty is
here in the castle of my forefathers, much though I grieve to part with
you."

This decision seemed to have a depressing effect on the outlaws within
hearing. Gottlieb retired, and the band consulted together for a time,
then their spokesman again advanced.

"Some while since," he began in dolorous tone, "we appealed to the
Emperor to pardon us, promising in such case to quit our life of
outlawry and take honest service with those nobles who needed stout
blades, but his Majesty sent reply that if we came unarmed to the
capital and tendered submission, he would be graciously pleased to hang
a round dozen of us to be selected by him, scourge the rest through the
streets of Frankfort and so bestow his clemency on such as survived.
This imperial tender we did not accept, as there was some uncertainty
regarding whose neck should feel the rope and whose back the scourge.
While all were willing to admit that more than a dozen of us sorely
needed hanging, yet each man seemed loath to claim precedence over his
neighbour in wickedness, and desired, in some sort, a voice in the
selection of the victims. But if you will accept our following, Master
Wilhelm, we will repair at once to Frankfort and make submission to his
Majesty the Emperor. The remnant being well scourged, will then return
to Schonburg to place themselves under your command."

"Are you willing then to hang for me, Gottlieb?"